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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685503">Anniversary Disasters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExyCherry/pseuds/ExyCherry'>ExyCherry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, M/M, aaron minyard and his exy star trophy husband, fic commission, wedding anniversary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 08:22:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExyCherry/pseuds/ExyCherry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil and Aaron's fifth anniversary doesn't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Aaron Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anniversary Disasters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikotheamazingspoonklepto/gifts">Nikotheamazingspoonklepto</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was written as a commission for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikotheamazingspoonklepto/pseuds/Nikotheamazingspoonklepto">@Nikotheamazingspoonklepto</a></p><p>prompt: Established Aaroneil with Aaron as ER pediatrician n Neil as his BAMF trophy Exy husband. Cute. Dramatic. HurtComfort Anything goes. Msg for inspo or discussion! ps Neil calls Aaron- Rin n the twins have a good relationship. Kate can be their surrogate if u want kids involved.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Neil hadn’t expected his fifth wedding anniversary to fall on the date of the championship game of the Exy World Cup, yet here he stands, holding up the trophy with his teammates as the reporters take their pictures and ask their questions. It hadn’t been an easy match, but his team had won fairly, and he’s eager to meet his husband at home for a nice dinner and a movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The locker room is abuzz with excited chatter as his teammates reflect on their key victory. Neil pays them no mind as he changes out, long used to the conversations that float around post game. He’s far more comfortable changing in front of his teammates than he had been in college, but there are still bad days when he has to wait for the locker room to empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, Josten! We’re going out for drinks to celebrate, you in?” his captain, Monty Winthrop, asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Neil replies, reaching up to touch the thin chain around his neck, the gold wedding band cool against his chest. “I have dinner plans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The team captain claps Neil on the shoulder affectionately, and Neil keeps his flinch to himself. He’s getting used to it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t startling anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Neil! It’s just drinks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my anniversary,” Neil says curtly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at practice on Monday, Monty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoulders his way out of the locker room without another word, giving his coach a polite nod as he leaves. He throws his bag in the backseat of his car, then unlocks his phone to send a text to his husband. To his quiet dismay, there’s already a message waiting, from two hours prior: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Got called in for an emergency. Be home soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Neil frowns, but replies with a simple </span>
  <em>
    <span>On my way</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knows Aaron will be there when he can, and that’s the driving force that keeps him focused on the road as he drives back to their apartment. It’s a modest little thing, given their salaries, but they’re comfortable and that’s all that matters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an expensive bottle of cabernet on the kitchen island, and a white index card is leaning against it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Save me a glass</span>
  </em>
  <span> is written in Aaron’s nearly illegible chicken scratch (a doctor right to his core, the idiot). Neil rolls his eyes. His husband’s sense of humor is dry, but Neil still loves him in spite of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still sweaty from the game, so he drops his bag at the foot of their bed and steps into the shower. The bathroom quickly fills with steam and the familiar smell of cheap 3-in-1 soap. Aaron hates it; his own shower regimen consists of at least four different bottles of scented soaps and things that Neil finds too extravagant (even if it smells delectable). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron still isn’t home when Neil steps out of the shower, nor when he finishes dressing himself to sit on the sofa and wait. He isn’t home after the first mind-numbing action film draws to a close. It’s going on three in the morning, and Neil doesn’t want to fall asleep waiting, but he does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron comes home to find the bottle of cabernet unopened. Neil is asleep on the sitting room sofa, auburn curls stark against the white cushions. He frowns in his sleep. It’s cute, and it makes his cheeks dimple. Aaron presses a feather-light kiss to his forehead and drapes a blanket over his shoulders. Neil grumbles something unintelligible, rolls over, and promptly falls onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s on his feet in a flash, eyes wild as he searches for the threat, only to see a five foot blonde laughing at his expense. He huffs and brushes imaginary dust off his sweatpants, fixing a glare on the man standing in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You certainly took your time,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was an emergency,” Aaron replies simply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mentioned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a brief moment of silence before Aaron reaches out and gently takes Neil’s hand. Neil folds into him with a practiced ease, tucking his chin atop the blonde’s head and closing his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell like hospital,” Neil murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then stop breathing me in,” Aaron says, squeezing his husband’s hand reassuringly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Neil says cheekily. “I didn’t say it was bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron pulls back just enough to press a tender kiss to Neil’s cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s late,” he says quietly. “Let’s get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neil knows better than to protest (it’s taken years to figure it out), so he allows the blonde to lead him to their bedroom, holding tight to each other between the sheets. They sleep easily together like this, Neil able to make sure the person he cares for most is safe, Aaron gladly stealing all of his body heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken some getting used to at first, sleeping together. Neil’s jolting awake in the night frequently kept Aaron from sleeping peacefully, and the nights where he couldn’t settle himself ended with him relocating to the sitting room. It hardly happens now, but he is still no stranger to the sofa cushions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron is well adjusted to his husband’s sleeping habits by now. He knows how to handle the bad nights, and he embraces the good ones as they come. He keeps tea in the kitchen and Matt Boyd on speed dial (in case of emergency), and he knows Neil well enough to give him space as needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their relationship is built on trust and respect, which had been quite surprising at first. It had taken a long time to stop fighting long enough to talk about their commonalities, but they’d become fast friends, and a romance had blossomed soon thereafter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, as they lay in bed together, Aaron can’t help but wonder what his life would be like without the man beside him. Certainly much quieter, that’s for sure, but not nearly as exciting as it is now. The Japanese mafia would not bother him otherwise. But he is happy with the life they have.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the morning, Aaron wakes to the very distinct smell of something burning, and the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen. The bed is empty beside him, and the sheets are cold. Aaron groans and reaches for his glasses on the bedside table. The world blinks into focus slowly as his feet touch the cold floor, leading him into the kitchen, where Neil is trying (and failing) to fry bacon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neil,” Aaron says, furrowing his brow, “what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breakfast,” Neil replies nonchalantly.  “Are you hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron hums in affirmation, then moves to kiss his husband good morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should make the bacon,” he says, a teasing lilt in his tone. Neil frowns softly and shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me do this, Rin,” he says. “Anniversary do-over. For last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron sighs and sits on a stool tucked into the island, resting his elbows on the countertop and lacing his fingers together beneath his chin. The gold band on his left hand catches in the sunlight streaming through the open windows. If he listens, he can hear the birds chirping in the distance, accompanied by the ever-present big city traffic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you sleep okay?” Aaron asks conversationally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Neil says. “Did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always sleep well when I’m with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Minyard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to know,” Aaron quips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neil deposits two pieces of blackened bacon and something that looks like scrambled eggs onto a plate and sets it in front of Aaron, followed by a mug of coffee and a bottle of ketchup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the eggs are a little overdone,” he says, smiling sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure they’re fine,” Aaron replies reassuringly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eggs are not, in fact, fine, and as such it takes a herculean effort for Aaron not to grimace at the rubbery texture and the aftertaste of </span>
  <em>
    <span>burnt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He forces a smile and chokes down a bite of bacon, which tastes equally burnt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” Neil says expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Aaron chokes out. “It’s good, Neil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neil’s face lights up, until he takes a bite of his own plate. He winces and shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he croaks, “it’s awful. You don’t have to eat that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron slides his plate out of his husband’s reach and stubbornly takes another bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes I do,” he says. “You made it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> the stubborn one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aaron, give me the eggs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron narrows his eyes but relents anyway. Neil promptly swipes the eggs and bacon into the trash bin and sets the plate in the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m making dinner,” Aaron says determinedly. “Since you made breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner turns out similarly disastrous as breakfast. In retrospect, Aaron thinks maybe he shouldn’t have tried for a risotto without any past experience. It’s somehow both watery and chewy, and it’s stuck to the bottom of the pan. Google says it’s still salvageable, but he winds up tossing it in the trash bin instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The roasted asparagus turns out alright, and it leaves him feeling hopeful for the chicken cordon bleu in the oven. All hope shatters when the very distinct smell of melting plastic begins filling the air. To Aaron’s horror, he left the blue lid on the glass pan when he put it in the oven. The lid is a gooey mess, and the chicken is inedible. He sets the pan on the flat stovetop where the risotto had been before, then sets to work searching for a new recipe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realise that he forgot to turn off the stove until it’s too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of exploding glass fills the air and sends him ducking behind the kitchen island for cover. He escapes unscathed. From their bedroom where Neil had been instructed to wait, Aaron hears his husband call, “Is everything alright in there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aaron replies, sighing in defeat. “We’ll have to order Postmates or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neil pokes his head out curiously, and his eyes widen. Broken glass is everywhere, the oven is smoking, and the expensive cabernet is tipped on its side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you do?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know anymore,” Aaron says, shoulders slumping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get the broom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cleaning is easier with the two of them, but they decide to leave the melted plastic at the bottom of the oven for another time. The sticky red footprints (courtesy of the spilled wine) disappear after much scrubbing, the glass is quickly disposed of, and the offending chicken splattered against the wall is tossed in the trash bin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment smells horrible, so Neil opens the windows while Aaron sets up the Costco box fan, affectionately named Rufus. There’s a brief moment where they both stand without speaking, contemplating the various disasters of the day, before Neil breaks the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Olive Garden?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Aaron says. “Olive Garden sounds nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want breadsticks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you loved me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Extra breadsticks, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their food is delivered an hour later. Rather than attempt to make Olive Garden takeaway into a fancy meal, they sit together on the sofa in sweatpants and put on a movie. It’s another Neil hasn’t seen. Supposedly it’s a Christmas movie, but there seems to be nothing holiday-related in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Die Hard.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> a Christmas movie!” Aaron says through a mouthful of fettuccine alfredo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Neil says, shoving his husband’s shoulder gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Aaron grumbles. “Shut up and pay attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their day had been a disaster from the start, but Neil couldn’t be happier with how they’d spent their anniversary, even if it was a day late. It didn’t matter as long as they were together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy anniversary,” Neil says, smiling softly. Aaron presses a soft kiss to his lips and smiles in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy anniversary,” he replies. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as always, you can find me on tumblr <a href="https://crows-scones-and-exy-thrones.tumblr.com/">@crows-scones-and-exy-thrones</a>. if you enjoy my work, consider donating to <a href="https://ko-fi.com/jupitercorvusprior">my ko-fi</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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